


lean on me

by hyucksdream



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Childhood Friends, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Na Jaemin is Whipped, Shy Park Jisung (NCT), Sleepy Cuddles, they're dumb college boys in love, this is pure domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25139326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyucksdream/pseuds/hyucksdream
Summary: Jisung stops in his tracks as soon as he steps out of the apartment, eyes landing on a figure sitting just beside the door, knees pulled up to their chest, and arms wrapped tightly around their legs.Jaemin winces when he lifts his head to meet Jisung’s bewildered gaze, like he hadn’t expected that Jisung would see him sitting down there.(or, circumstances lead to jaemin having to stay over at jisung's apartment for a few days. they fall into a domestic routine, and are forced to address their feelings for each other when their tiny vacation comes to an end)
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Park Jisung
Comments: 7
Kudos: 139





	lean on me

Jisung shoves his feet in his shoes as soon as the lilting melody of his ringtone reaches his ears. He jogs back to his living room, throwing pillows aside as he looks for his phone. When his hand finally clutches onto the device, he lets out a sigh, picking up the call after making sure that it’s really Jeno who is calling him. 

“Hey Jeno,” Jisung pulls on his coat and starts looking for his wallet and keys. He really needs to clean up the apartment, it’s so cluttered he can barely see the floor.

“Sung? Are you on your way yet? Renjun can’t reach Jaemin and I wanted to ask if you’d heard from him?” Jeno’s voice is loud, and Jisung can tell that he’s worried by the rushed way his words come out.

“I’m just about to head out, I’m looking for my wallet— where did I put it? I just saw it,” Jisung mutters to himself, then stills, “Wait, did you say you haven’t heard from Jaemin? At all? His flight landed yesterday!”

He straightens slowly, his eyes catching on brown leather on the floor near the leg of his dining table. He reaches over to snatch his wallet up, eyes narrowing when Jeno stays silent on the other end of the call, nothing but soft mumbles coming through the speaker.

“Jeno?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” he affirms, “We haven’t heard from Jaemin. Not even a text telling us he landed.”

That’s strange, Jisung won’t lie. Jisung purses his lips, leaning back against his dining table. “I’ll call him and see what’s up.”

“Thanks, Sung. But for real, have you left your apartment yet?” Jeno asks, “Renjun’s already half-drunk. His finals this semester really destroyed him.”

“Yes, Jen. I’m halfway there already,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing his keys from the bowl near the front door.

Jisung stops in his tracks as soon as he steps out of the apartment, eyes landing on a figure sitting just beside the door, knees pulled up to their chest, and arms wrapped tightly around their legs. 

Jaemin winces when he lifts his head to meet Jisung’s bewildered gaze, like he hadn’t expected that Jisung would see him sitting down there. 

He stands, brushing the dirt off his pants before he looks down, scratching at his nose, shifting from foot to foot. Jaemin is unusually nervous and Jisung spots a bag next to Jaemin’s feet, packed to the brim and bulging. 

“Is everything okay, Jaem? What’s with the bag? Why haven’t you texted Jeno or Renjun?” Jisung asks, then looks at his phone, remembering he’s still on call with Jeno, “Jeno, I found Jaemin. I don’t think we’re gonna make it tonight.”

He hears Jeno practically squawk with surprise, and he only offers a quick, “Jeno, he’s safe, I promise. I’ll text you later,” before hanging up. 

He gives his full attention to Jaemin, who still hasn’t spoken. He’s still looking at the floor, and Jisung knows exactly why. Jaemin is self-sufficient and he makes sure that everyone knows that. He hates asking for handouts, and Jisung and the rest of their friends have learned not to offer more than Jaemin wants. So it must have been a hit to Jaemin’s pride for him to show up here, in front of Jisung’s apartment. 

“Jaemin, you know you can talk to me, right? You wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Jisung reaches out and puts a tentative hand on Jaemin’s shoulder, knowing that the touch would likely be comforting to the older boy. It takes a second, but Jaemin eventually does relax against Jisung, leaning into his touch. 

At last, he looks up and meets Jisung’s eyes. His own eyes are red and his face looks dry and the tiniest bit blotchy, “I got kicked out of my apartment. There’s a water leak, and there’s no way to contain it. There’s too much water damage to the ceilings and they’ll have to evict everyone from my building and shut it down.”

“Shut it down? Right before second semester starts?” Jisung blows out a breath. This sounds like a nightmare to him, and he isn’t even the engineering student between them. 

“We have till the end of the weekend to get everything moved out,” Jaemin’s voice is helpless in a way Jisung’s never heard it before. His usually comforting voice sounds detached and he won’t meet Jisung’s gaze again. 

“The school hasn’t assigned any living arrangements for you? Your apartment complex is sponsored by the uni, isn’t it?” Jisung wants nothing more than to wipe the frown off of Jaemin’s face, take his hand in his own, and march to the housing office to figure something out for Jaemin. 

But he knows Jaemin would hate that. Jisung knows Jaemin probably already hates that he’s here right now, so Jisung refrains. Instead, he reaches out and takes Jisung’s hand, soothingly rubbing the skin near his knuckles. 

“They said we’re on our own. There are a couple of dorms open, but the university will definitely give those to the underclassmen. The rest of us are fucked,” Jaemin sighs again, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Jisung nods, reaching around Jaemin and grabbing his bag off the ground. He tries not to heave at the weight, kicking his door back open and gently pushing Jaemin through. He goes pliantly, and Jisung presses his lips together. 

“You should go back out to Jeno and Renjun, since you already made plans with them,” Jaemin says, taking a seat on Jisung’s couch.

Jisung drops Jaemin’s bag off in his room, before sitting next to Jaemin, maybe a bit closer than needed. He’s worried and wants Jaemin to be okay, but he can’t lie, he’s happy Jaemin’s with him. He’s missed him, even though Jaemin had only gone to his parents’ house for a week. 

So Jisung shakes his head, getting comfy on the couch, turning his head to look at Jaemin, “To be fair, you were also included in our plans. But I don’t think it’s a great idea for us to get hammered tonight. Not with the couple days you’ve had.”

Jaemin winces and straightens, “Sung, I’m fine. Here— I’ll go with you. It’s Friday night, there’s no reason for us to stay in.”

Jisung shakes his head, reaching for the TV remote instead, “No, I don’t wanna go out. It’s cold out there, and my apartment is warm. And you’re here, I’d rather stay in with you.”

Jisung feels himself blush. He doesn’t know where the random bursts of courage come from. They always seem to show up when Jaemin or Chenle are distressed, and it’s the easiest way to get them to calm down and listen. It’s odd, but Jisung can only ever muster up the courage to be so direct when Jaemin is involved. 

Sure enough, Jaemin shoots him a strange look, reluctantly settling into the couch. Jisung can only focus on the bags under his eyes and the dried tear tracks on his cheeks. 

“Do you wanna shower? I can cook something for dinner. Maybe Chenle’s ramen? He’s been helping me cook lately since I accidentally burned the chicken I was cooking last week,” Jisung contemplates, hiding his smile when Jaemin scoffs, and a spark of amusement flashes through his eyes. 

“Sung, the sprinklers literally went off. I think it’s better if you stay out of the kitchen,” Jaemin says, but there’s a smile on his face, and Jisung couldn’t care less that Jaemin is practically insulting his cooking skills. 

“Fine, maybe I’ll wait for you. Go shower, I’m gonna see what Donghyuck’s been posting on his Instagram. I keep getting notifications every couple minutes,” Jisung says with a lazy smile, picking up his phone.

“It’s probably his siblings. I texted him yesterday, and his little sister ended up texting me back. She sent me a bunch of ugly pictures of Donghyuck, though, so I like her,” Jaemin laughs, standing and heading into Jisung’s room. 

“Shower fast! You know where the towels are,” Jisung calls, feeling a smile lift his lips as he watches Jaemin disappear from his sight, grunting in response. He may not be able to influence Jaemin completely, but he can hopefully make him comfortable despite the situation he’s in. 

He narrows his eyes at his phone, opening up his text thread with Jeno. 

**_TO: JENJEN - 7:22 PM_ **

jeno jaemin’s apartment is getting closed 

down for maintenance

there’s a water leak 

he’s really upset, you know 

he hates asking for help

Jisung sets his phone down, opting to stand and head into the kitchen instead. He shuffles around the cupboards, thinking of a quick meal he could make to surprise Jaemin with, something that wouldn’t result in the fire department being alerted. 

Pasta, pasta is easy, Jisung thinks, and he has garlic bread that would go well with pasta. He starts humming to himself; there’s something about Jaemin that seems to instantly lift his spirits, no matter how low they get. His phone buzzes, and he reaches for it as he turns on the stove, setting the heat to medium for the water to boil. 

**_FROM: JENJEN - 7:29 PM_ **

shit

do you want me and jun to come over

**_TO: JENJEN - 7:29 PM_ **

no no don’t come over

just text him

he’s settled down now

he’s gonna stay w me im pretty sure

**_FROM: JENJEN - 7:30 PM_ **

ok 

text me if u need anything

stay safe n use protection

**_TO: JENJEN - 7:30 PM_ **

JENO

what the hell

bye i hate u

Jisung puts his phone down after putting on some music, tossing in the pasta after the water starts to boil. He can hear Jaemin singing in the shower, and paired with the smell of food cooking, he feels calm and content. Despite the shitty situation, Jisung is glad that Jaemin showed up here, at his place. It warms him up from the inside, knowing that Jaemin would voluntarily stay with him, that Jaemin chose him to confide in. 

Jisung’s come to terms with his feelings after realizing them a few months ago. Maybe it was the way Jaemin took the time to take extra care of Jisung, maybe it’s the way the both of them seek each other out when Jeno finds himself getting carried away between Mark and Chenle’s goofiness, when Renjun and Donghyuck are knee-deep in an argument, when the atmosphere is full of chaos but the two of them seek each other out like the other is a wave of serenity for them.

Jisung is used to Jaemin’s affection now too; on a bad day it’s mildly irritating, and on good days, he finds himself craving it, craving Jaemin’s sweet compliments and tight hugs and incessant cheek pinching. 

Like during the two weeks Jisung and Jaemin haven’t seen each other. Jisung went home for a week right before Jaemin left, so the last time they had seen each other before tonight was the post-finals celebratory dinner they’d gone to right when their break had started. 

Jisung thinks of the night he wants with Jaemin. Maybe they could watch one of the dumb rom-coms Donghyuck and Jaemin watch together, just to get Jaemin’s mind off of everything. They could share a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, and maybe, if Jisung was ever to muster the courage, he could hold Jaemin’s hand or reciprocate a hug or even initiate a kiss. 

Jisung’s cheeks burn, and he shakes his head frantically, looking down at the pasta. He hears the shower shut off, and he heads for the fridge, digging out some pasta sauce, hoping that the cool air from the fridge will help his face return to a normal color and his heart rate to a normal speed. 

He moves around the kitchen easily, and though it’s taken some time, Jisung is pretty comfortable in the kitchen now. Other than a few fiascos, Jisung’s made good improvements in his cooking, to the point where he looks forward to trying out new recipes with Chenle and Chenle doesn’t immediately refuse. 

“Smells so good,” Jaemin says as he walks into the kitchen. His hair is damp, the soft brown color looking darker now. He’s dressed in shorts and a giant sweatshirt, and there’s no trace of puffiness in his eyes. Jisung smiles, scooting over to make room for Jaemin to stand next to him. 

“You can sit down and relax, you’re the guest,” Jisung pushes Jaemin towards their dining table, though he knows Jaemin will put up an argument. 

Jaemin just rolls his eyes, his gaze landing on the garlic bread Jisung has laid out on a baking sheet, “I’ll put those in the oven when it’s preheated.”

Jisung shrugs, “Alright, sounds good. Oh, do you wanna watch a movie tonight? I know Donghyuck sent you a list of movies that you guys wanted to watch.”   
Jaemin stops in his tracks, turning and squishing Jisung’s cheeks in his hands, “Aw, Sungie wants to watch a rom-com tonight? Sure, we can do that.”

Jisung’s heart inflates at the gesture and Jaemin’s wide smile, proud of himself for cheering Jaemin enough that he’s smiling this big. Watching the romcom that Jaemin will inevitably choose is a small sacrifice he’ll make for Jaemin.

“Don’t blame me if I fall asleep though. I’m agreeing to watch, but it’s not my fault if it ends up being super boring,” Jisung says, turning down the volume of his music as he sets the table. 

Jaemin’s arm slides around Jisung’s waist as he leans over to get a couple of coasters for their drinks, his voice low and strangely gravelly, “Thank you for letting me stay here, Jisung.”

Jisung’s heart stutters, and his breath hitches, though he recovers quickly and runs a hand through Jaemin’s damp hair, “You know you’re welcome here anytime, Jaem. I’m glad you’re here. I missed you when you were gone.”

Jisung’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s just said. Again with the boldness when Jaemin is distressed? He can’t find it in himself to regret the words, though. Not when Jaemin beams up at him and latches his hands around Jisung’s waist tightly, pulling Jisung’s body even closer to his own. If Jisung had the guts, it would be so easy to ask Jaemin if he could kiss him right now. There is hardly more than three inches between their noses, and Jaemin’s eyes look like they’re focused on Jisung’s lips.

The oven beeps loudly as it finishes preheating, and Jaemin jumps up, heading to the cupboard to grab some glasses for their drinks before heading over to put in the bread. Jisung strains the pasta and mixes the sauce in, sighing at the delicious aroma that wafts through the apartment. 

He’s not going to lie, he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal since he got back from his parents’ house. His cooking is nowhere near the skill level of his mother, and when he got back, Chenle and Jaemin left immediately after, leaving him alone, with no source of home-cooked food other than his own amateur skills. Despite Jeno and Renjun doing their best to keep Jisung company, neither of them are Jisung’s babysitter, and neither of them are very good cooks themselves. 

“Shit!” comes a pained groan from behind him, followed by a loud clatter. 

Jisung spins around, finding Jaemin cradling his hand gently, the baking sheet lying next to his feet, oven wide open. It takes Jisung a second to understand what’s going on, but he springs to action right away. 

“Jesus, Jaemin, fuck,” Jisung curses, turning the heat on the stove to low before he makes his way over to Jaemin, shutting the oven and stepping over the baking sheet to Jaemin. 

He slowly leads Jaemin over to the sink, turning the cold water on, and guiding Jaemin’s hand under the faucet. His index finger is raging red, the skin slightly puckering. Jisung stifles a wince when Jaemin lets out a pained moan. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, his free hand finding Jaemin’s own free hand and clutching tight. Jaemin’s grip is unyielding, but Jisung pays it no mind as he watches the pain on Jaemin’s face ease second by second. “Wait here, let me find some aloe vera gel and a bandage.”

Jaemin nods, holding his hand under the water. Jisung picks up the baking sheet and places it on the counter, heading to the bathroom for his medical supplies. He and Chenle admittedly have less medical supplies than they probably should, but they make do. Jisung finds a jar of aloe vera gel and a bandage, both of which he brings back to the kitchen. 

Jaemin is exactly where Jisung left him, though his face is far more relaxed now. Jisung turns off the faucet and gently pulls Jaemin along with him to the dining table. Jaemin takes a seat on a chair, Jisung pulling himself onto the table, setting Jaemin’s hand in his lap. 

“I told you to relax,” Jisung murmurs as he twists open the vaseline tub. 

Jaemin nods, putting a bit more weight on Jisung’s leg, “I know.”

“How much sleep have you gotten in the past two days? You got up early for your flight, didn’t sleep at all on the flight, and got no sleep last night because of the leak, am I right? And you didn’t tell anyone where you were, either,” Jisung berates, though his tone is infused with more worry than annoyance.

“I know.”

Jisung takes a deep breath and then starts gently slathering the gel onto Jaemin’s finger. Jaemin inhales sharply, and Jisung slows his movements. He apologizes with each stroke until Jaemin’s finger is completely covered. He unravels the cloth bandage, wrapping it slowly around Jaemin’s finger, tucking the free end into the folds. 

“All done,” he releases a deep breath, looking down at Jaemin.

“Thanks, Sung,” Jaemin says, patting Jisung’s thigh with gratitude. 

“Don’t move, okay? Just sit and relax. I’m not kidding. We probably shouldn’t even watch a movie, you should just go to bed and get some rest,” Jisung slides off the table, gathering the supplies again. 

“Since when did you start acting like my mom, Sung?” Jaemin smiles with amusement, though Jisung can see the curiosity lining his eyes.

_ Since I realized how much I like you _ , Jisung thinks,  _ and how much it hurts to see you hurt.  _

“Since you started neglecting yourself, Jaem. Now hold tight, dinner’s almost done,” he opts to say instead, turning and heading back to the kitchen. 

They eat dinner quietly after that. Jaemin is lucky and didn’t burn his dominant hand, so he doesn’t have any problem eating dinner. Jisung can tell that Jaemin is beating himself up more than usual by the slow rate that his pasta is disappearing off his plate. Either that or the pasta turned out worse than Jisung thought.    
“What’s up, Jaem? Does your finger hurt?” Jisung asks when he’s almost done eating, noticing that Jaemin’s plate is still half full. 

Jaemin shakes his head, not meeting Jisung’s eyes, “No, it’s alright. This situation just sucks and I’m tired.”

“You should get some rest, I’m serious. We shouldn’t watch a movie tonight. I know you haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep in at least three days,” Jisung sighs, standing, clearing his plate before returning to the table. 

Jaemin shakes his head, smiling gently, “I’m fine, Sung. I wanna watch a movie with you. I can sleep all day tomorrow. Right now, I wanna spend time with you. I missed you too, you know. When I was at my parents’.”

Jaemin stands, ruffling Jisung’s hair on his way to the sink. Jisung catches up with him, taking the plate out of his hand, “You should be relaxing. I got it. Let me put it in the dishwasher.”

Jaemin makes a face but hands the plate over, pushing the chairs in and turning off the light near the dining table. He’s careful with his hand, but that doesn’t stop Jisung from watching Jaemin’s every move, making sure that he doesn’t accidentally slam it against the chair or hit it on the wall. 

“Sung, I’m gonna get the ice cream. You ready?” Jaemin bumps Jisung’s hip with his own on his way to the fridge. 

Jisung grunts, about to protest that Jaemin should go to bed, but when he turns, Jaemin’s beaming at him and Jisung isn’t strong enough to deny spending more time with him. Besides, Jaemin will probably fall asleep within the first thirty minutes of the movie anyway.

He quickly finishes loading the dishwasher, putting in the soap, and shutting it. He watches Jaemin shuffle around the freezer, choosing from the many ice creams Jisung and Chenle make sure their apartment is stocked full with. 

He emerges with chocolate chip cookie dough and smores, looking conflicted, “You choose.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, “Cookie dough, easily.”

Jaemin nods in agreement and Jisung grabs them each a spoon, following Jaemin to the couch. They get settled quickly, Jaemin taking the left side of the couch, Jisung sitting right next to him, unfolding their throw blanket and tossing it over their legs. Jaemin grins, looking so relaxed and content that Jisung is about to melt. He watches Jaemin turn on the TV, scroll to Netflix and turn to him, looking at him quizzically. 

“What should we watch?”

“Anything. I wasn’t kidding, we can watch one of your favorite rom-coms,” Jisung grins at the way Jaemin beams. 

Jisung never ends up watching the movie. He watches Jaemin lick the ice cream off the spoon, his eyes full of soft compassion as he watches the screen. He watches Jaemin’s hand, gently laid on top of the blanket, hardly a couple of inches away from Jisung’s own hand. If he wasn’t so afraid of getting rejected, he’d reach out. Really, he has nothing to be afraid of, since Jaemin is more affectionate than Jisung is, and there’s almost no universe where Jaemin wouldn’t hold Jisung’s hand back. But he can’t force his muscles to move, so he settles for watching Jaemin and wishing he was brave. 

They end up shifting closer throughout the movie, resulting in their shoulders touching and thighs pressed up against each other under the blanket. Jisung can’t focus on the movie at all, he has no idea how Jaemin hasn’t looked up even once. Jaemin laughs at all the unfunny jokes, coos at the romantic parts, and Jisung can only wonder how he fell so hard so fast. 

He knows his feelings have increased exponentially during this past year, but he’s still testing the waters, seeing how far his feelings reach. He has no expectations, though. He wears his heart on his sleeve and is too trusting, too pure and sweet, as Chenle always puts it. And Jaemin is flirty and nice and inviting to everyone, to which Jisung has a front-row seat to witness. He’s setting himself up for heartbreak, but he values their friendship too much to give it up and put his own feelings first. 

It’s completely dark when the movie ends, the only light illuminating the room is the dim lamp on the table next to the couch. The apartment is a bit cooler now, and Jaemin’s hogging the blanket, pulling it all the way up to his chin. 

“C’mon, let’s go to bed. I’m tired,” Jaemin stands, yawning, wrapping the blanket around himself. 

“Be careful with your hand,” Jisung reminds, switching the TV off and following Jaemin to his room.

Jaemin is quick to change and brush his teeth, but Jisung takes his time getting undressed. Jaemin will inevitably sleep in Jisung’s bed since Jisung isn’t about to let an injured Jaemin take the couch. His bed is big enough for the two of them to be comfortable, but Jisung is a cuddler. Oddly, Jaemin isn’t, but Jisung hugs anything that’s in his general vicinity when asleep. He’ll have to make do, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about it. 

When he gets back into his room, Jaemin is already settled in bed, claiming the left side, eyes glued to his phone, his bandaged left hand held tightly to his chest—which is bare. Jisung doesn’t think he can do this. He tears his eyes away from the tanned skin of Jaemin’s chest, meeting Jaemin’s eyes, which are barely open. 

“Oh, good, you’re here. I’m so tired and it’s cold. Come here, I wanna cuddle,” Jaemin whines, reaching over to Jisung’s charger, plugging his phone in before pouting up at Jisung. 

Jisung shakes his head at the sight but climbs into bed, taking care not to jostle Jaemin’s hand. He gasps when Jaemin’s warm legs graze his own cold ones, slipping an arm over Jaemin’s waist. 

“Is your arm alright?” he whispers, his nose tucked in the juncture where Jaemin’s neck meets his shoulder. Jaemin smells like Jisung’s soap and lavender, and he breathes in. Jaemin’s hair at the base of his neck is scratching Jisung’s cheek, but he would never move away.

“Mm, it’s okay. I can’t really feel it,” Jaemin murmurs back, his voice sending vibrations straight to Jisung’s heart.

Jisung hums back, the two of them quiet for a while. Jisung feels safe, happy, and content wrapped in the warmth of Jaemin’s arms. The two blankets on top of them do nothing to warm Jisung, that’s all Jaemin’s doing. His breathing starts to even out, and Jisung thinks he’s almost asleep when Jaemin speaks again.    
“I’m glad I came here,” Jaemin says softly, his voice dragging out the words, each syllable laced with sleep. Jisung hangs on to the sentence, savoring the quiet sweetness of his words. 

“I am too,” Jisung says in the dark, his eyes shutting, “I’m happy you’re here.”

—

Jisung wakes up fairly early, even for himself. His body is still adjusting to the fact that he has no classes to rush to, so there’s no need to wake up at 7 each morning. The sun is just starting to rise, gorgeous strokes of pink and orange painted on the sky, no clouds to be seen. 

He wakes up to Jaemin turned towards him, his head tucked near Jaemin’s chest. Jaemin’s uninjured arm is strewn over Jisung’s abdomen, and Jisung is more comfortable than he’d like to admit. He doesn’t want to say it, but he wants to stay in this position for as long as possible. He’s warm, and the sun is peeking in through the curtains and illuminating Jaemin’s fluffy hair and tan skin, making him glow. Jisung takes a moment to wrap his arm around Jaemin tighter, squeezing once before getting out of the bed, making sure Jaemin is tucked in tightly before heading towards the bathroom. 

His apartment is cold as he walks around the kitchen, the tile cold under his feet and chilly air causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He pulls on a discarded sweatshirt he picks up from the couch before opening the blinds and letting sunlight pour in. He opens the windows as well, letting in cold air that only adds to the peaceful morning serenity that Jisung loves. 

Jisung gets started on breakfast, knowing that if Jaemin wakes up before breakfast is made, he’ll insist to take over and cook for the both of them. Jaemin’s constant need to care for everyone around him is sweet most times, but Jisung hates that he never lets anyone return the favor. All he wants is to reciprocate Jaemin’s care for him. 

He gets to work, cooking bacon and eggs on one of the burners. He throws some bread in the toaster and gets started on the coffee, quietly humming to himself as he moves around the kitchen. 

He hopes the food will turn out okay. He’s been cooking more often, just to try and learn and improve, and though eggs and bacon is a relatively easy breakfast, he’s still burnt the food multiple times before.

The kitchen is full of pleasant aromas, though, so Jisung thinks he’s done well this time. He digs around the fridge to look for a box of strawberries, remembering that Chenle had told him to eat the last of the strawberries before they go bad before he left for home. 

He’s washing the strawberries under the faucet when he feels arms wrap around his waist, a chin nuzzling into his shoulder. Warmth immediately erupts through him and he resists the urge to melt into Jaemin’s arms. 

“Morning, Jaem,” Jisung greets, smiling softly as Jaemin tightens his grip. 

Jaemin hums and takes a giant breath in, “G’morning, Sung. It smells like heaven in here.”

Jisung laughs, “I haven’t burned anything yet. Not the food or my hands. Are you proud?” he teases as he heads back to the stove. 

The eggs are done, and the bacon is almost done, judging by the impressed way Jaemin is surveying the pan. 

Jaemin smiles lazily, his lips chapped but pink as ever, “Yeah, I am. It smells so good, I’m starving. You could’ve woken me up to help you.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, “You’re injured. And I can handle making breakfast.”

Jaemin nods, “I know you can.”

Jisung shakes his head but there’s a smile growing on his face as he turns off the gas, plating both the eggs and bacon just as the toast pops out of the toaster. Jaemin helps himself to the coffee, pouring enough for both of them and they get settled around the table. 

Jaemin’s hair is strewn messily around his head, and Jisung laughs. It’s completely messed up, and Jisung’s sure his own hair is just as messy. Jaemin’s wearing a baggy shirt and fairly short shorts, and Jisung thinks this is the cutest he’s ever seen Jaemin. 

“How’s your hand?” Jisung asks when Jaemin winces as he picks up his coffee cup, quickly transferring the cup to the other hand. 

“Not as bad anymore. I got such a good night’s sleep last night, though. How did you sleep?” Jaemin’s evasion of the question doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung, and he rolls his eyes. 

“I slept fine. Now tell me how your hand really is. We need to move the stuff out of your room either today or tomorrow, right? So if your hand is still hurt, we can get help from Jeno,” Jisung sighs, putting his fork down, looking at Jaemin. 

Jaemin doesn’t meet Jisung’s eyes right away, though Jisung sees his grip on his fork tighten then loosen. He sighs but looks up finally, his eyes holding conflicting emotions. 

“Jaem, I promise, you’re not bothering me by being here. It’s lonely here without Chenle anyway, and I like having your company. I wanna help you move your stuff out of your apartment,” Jisung says, thinking of every possible reason that Jaemin would deny his help, and finding a way to squash it. 

“I know, I believe you. My hand does hurt a bit. We don’t have to move all the furniture so I should be fine. As long as I use my palm and not my fingers,” Jaemin bites his lip, looking like it kills him to be vulnerable. 

“Should we go today or tomorrow?” Jisung asks, finishing up the rest of his breakfast. He gets up to stretch before clearing his dishes out of the way. 

Jaemin follows, putting his plate in the sink and getting a refill of coffee before turning to Jisung, “I think we should go today. I don’t want all of my stuff to get water on it. The maintenance guys are gonna wrap the furniture tomorrow, but everything else I need to get out today.”

Jisung nods, heading towards the bathroom, taking one last look at Jaemin, his messy hair, loose clothes, and carefully bandaged hand, “I’m gonna shower, then we can head out.”

Jaemin hums, taking a seat on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. As Jisung shuts the door behind him, he finds himself thinking that he wouldn’t mind if Jaemin moved in with him for real. In fact, he’d be quite excited about it. 

—

Jisung is familiar with Jaemin’s apartment since it’s where most of their hangouts take place. Jaemin doesn’t have a roommate, something Jisung is sometimes jealous of. It’s small, but it can fit their whole friend group in with ease, though it often gets really loud easily. 

Jaemin is quite minimal and doesn’t have too many belongings, so Jisung doesn’t think transporting everything to Jisung’s apartment should take too long. 

Despite them having a daunting task at hand, Jisung is excited to spend an entire afternoon with Jaemin. He’s not sure why he’s so attached to spending time with Jaemin all of a sudden, but he has a feeling that the two weeks they spent apart have something to do with it. 

“I’m gonna leave most of my stuff in my car, alright Sung? I don’t wanna crowd your apartment too much,” Jaemin says as he unlocks the door, letting him in. 

Jisung hums, “You don’t have that much stuff in the first place, Jaem. But if that’s what you want, then sure.”

Jisung can feel Jaemin’s smile burn at the side of his head, but he opts to open up the boxes they’d brought instead of turning to face him. They’d stopped at the nearest hardware store before driving over, so they have approximately ten boxes stored in the trunk. Jisung thinks they can squeeze all of Jaemin’s belongings in less than eight boxes. Jaemin really doesn’t have many belongings—every spring, without fail, he cleans his apartment and makes sure there’s no clutter and nothing he doesn’t find joy in—and for some reason, it makes Jisung happy. Maybe because Jaemin will have an easier time adjusting to Jisung and Chenle’s apartment, maybe because Jaemin has a smaller chance of hurting his hand again. 

Either way, Jisung grins as he looks around, wondering where they should start packing. 

“Shit, the leak is getting worse,” Jaemin says from another room, and Jisung follows his voice to the living room. 

Jaemin’s staring up at the corner of the ceiling, where Jisung spots a darkened spot. The paint is starting to peel off where the leak is, and there’s a somewhat musty smell floating through the air. Jisung makes a less than pleasant face that is mirrored on Jaemin’s face. 

“I think I have air freshener somewhere,” Jaemin mumbles, his nose scrunched up, heading towards the bathroom. 

Jisung heads back into the kitchen, as far away from the water leak as possible. He knows Jaemin has a wide variety of cooking utensils, so he decides to start organizing and packing those first.    
When they finally make their way to Jaemin’s room—the last area in the apartment they have yet to pack up—it’s getting late in the afternoon, but Jisung is still amazed. It would take at least two days to completely pack up Jisung and Chenle’s apartment, even without unassembling their furniture. 

“I’m so tired,” Jaemin breathes as he takes a seat on the floor against his mattress, lifting his water bottle to his lips. 

Jisung sits down next to him, a weary sigh escaping him as he lays down, setting his head in Jaemin’s lap, “Your room shouldn’t take too long, though, right?”

“We have to sort through this,” Jaemin reaches under his bed and pulls out a large plastic container filled to the brim with different knick-knacks and trinkets. Jaemin huffs a laugh before reaching back down and pulling out two more containers of the same size. 

Jisung just groans, closing his eyes as if that would make Jaemin’s belongings disappear, “I’m so tired.”

“I know, Sung. This stuff is kinda interesting, though,” Jaemin comments as he rifles through the box, picking up a letter covered in stickers and decorative tapes, inspecting it with an affectionate smile. 

“Is that from your sister?” Jisung asks, sitting up and leaning closer to get a better look at the envelope.

Jaemin nods, his eyes shining bright as he skims the letter quickly. 

Jisung takes his time looking through the box as well. There are far more letters than he expected, from secret admirers and classmates, and even some from his teachers. Jisung knows Jaemin is popular and has been since they were kids, but he still feels a strange sense of jealousy when seeing all these letters addressed to Jaemin, covered with washi tapes and cute stickers and calligraphy. 

Then comes the ugly wave of envy crashing through his head telling him that at least these girls had the courage to confess their feelings for their crush. Jisung has been denying and denying, and now that he’s come to terms with his feelings, he doesn’t think he’ll ever act on them. 

His eyes catch on a black, sleek photo album buried under a mountain of brightly decorated letters. He reaches for it. It’s quite heavy, filled with maybe hundreds of photos, Jisung thinks. There’s only one word written on the cover, scribbled in Jaemin’s loopy print: memories.

It’s filled with photos of all the people closest to Jaemin. There’s a lot of his little sister and parents, and even more of Jeno and Renjun and the rest of their friends. Each photo is taken by Jaemin, Jisung realizes, and they are each accompanied with a short caption.    
When he reaches the halfway mark, Jisung realizes that all the photos in the pages after are of . . . him. There’s room for six photos on each page, and for countless pages, every photo is of him. There are plenty that he remembers posing for, Jaemin quickly snapping a few shots here and there, but there are a lot of candid shots that Jisung’s never seen either. There are no captions for many of them as well, and Jisung’s face warms as he flips through the delicate pages, seeing his face portrayed in different lighting and scenarios. Seeing his face portrayed the way that Jaemin sees him.

There’s Jisung laughing at Jeno spilling drinks on himself at lunch, Jisung staring out the car window during their spring break road trip last year, there’s him frowning at Jaemin’s camera, there’s even him fast asleep, limbs tangled with Chenle’s. It’s strange how Jisung appreciates the gesture. If it were anyone else taking photos of him, Jisung would feel uncomfortable and irritated, but he’s aware it’s coming from Jaemin. 

Jaemin, who has always looked out for him. Jaemin, who’s always been his best friend and has never once asked for anything back. Jaemin, who Jisung thinks he’s been in love with for quite a while. Jaemin, who may reciprocate Jisung’s feelings. 

Jisung’s heart automatically inflates, soaring with hope at the mere thought of Jaemin ever returning his feelings, but before he can even look up, Jaemin’s snatching the album out of Jisung’s hands, closing it softly and tucking it back underneath the heap of letters. 

“I think I’ll just keep all this stuff,” Jaemin mutters, not meeting Jisung’s eyes as he shoves everything back in the box, putting the lid back on soundly. “We should get going.”

“Jaem, you good?” Jisung stops him from leaving the room, taking the box out of his arms, sending him a concerned look. 

Jaemin’s eyes search his own, looking for what Jisung assumes to be any sign of discomfort. When he doesn’t find any, he sighs, nodding quickly. 

“I’m good, Sung. Always good with you,” he nudges Jisung before holding the door open for him. 

Jisung smiles, and when Jaemin smiles back, eyes soft with affection, Jisung can’t stop the hope from blooming in his chest. 

They spend another hour loading everything into Jaemin’s car, shoving boxes into the backseats and trunk, rearranging until everything fits. The sun started setting a while ago, and now the sky is tinged pink with gorgeous streaks of red and purple. 

“You want a popsicle? I’ve got every color except red,” Jaemin says, pulling the box of popsicles out of the freezer, pulling out a green one for himself. 

The fridge is their final area to pack up. Every other surface in the whole apartment is bare, looking like Jaemin never lived here. 

Jisung can’t help but think about how everything can be so temporary and how situations can change so easily. It fills him with a strange urgency to confess, to spill his feelings before he loses the chance forever. 

Looking at Jaemin, though, all warm smiles and cute fluffy hair, grinning widely as he holds out the box of popsicles, Jisung can’t open his mouth. He wants to savor their relationship for as long as possible, and destroying it is something he can’t fathom. 

So he grabs a blue popsicle, helps Jaemin throw out expired food and store the good food in reusable shopping bags, and doesn’t say a word until they make it back to the car. He shoves his feelings out of sight, wishing that they’d leave his mind as well. It’s comfortable, Jaemin cracking jokes and Jisung laughing at them, even the ones that are admittedly bad. He wonders how he let himself fall so deep, why he set himself up for pain and heartbreak. He watches Jaemin slam the trunk shut, sighing happily as he pushes his hair away from his face. He watches Jaemin eat his popsicle, smiling at the refreshing taste of sour apple. 

God, he’s fucked. 

“It’s getting late. Do you wanna get pizza and watch movies tonight?” Jaemin asks, looking out at the sunset. 

They’ve been seated on the hood of Jaemin’s car for half an hour, watching the sun go down. They’ve been silent for the majority of the time, Jaemin clearly thinking about his living situation, and Jisung’s thoughts keep going back to the photo album that’s packed away deep in a box in the car now. Jisung’s come to the conclusion that he will confess his feelings to Jaemin soon. 

Jisung guesses that Jaemin will be staying with him for likely one more week, just enough time for him to figure things out, and Jisung tells himself that he will tell Jaemin how he feels before he leaves. Who knows if he’ll ever get another chance. He knows himself, though, so he knows that if he does confess, it’ll be minutes before Jaemin leaves. He enjoys the domesticity that’s been between them for the past few days far too much to give it up so fast. 

Jisung hops down, stretching his body, “Yeah, pizza sounds good. You’ve gotta help me clean the apartment tomorrow morning, though. Chenle’s coming home in the afternoon.”

Something passes over Jaemin’s face, though he masks it too fast for Jisung to really comprehend its meaning. 

He nods, following suit and hopping off the hood of his car, “Sure! Your apartment’s gonna be sparkling since I actually know how to clean.”   
Jisung flicks Jaemin’s forehead as he snickers, pulling open the door to get inside the car. Jaemin slides into the driver’s side, the two of them getting buckled in. 

“Thanks for helping me pack, Sung,” Jaemin looks over at Jisung, familiar affection present in his eyes. Jisung’s heart stutters at the warm gesture, but he smiles and waves it off. 

“No big deal, Jaem.”

If he notices that Jaemin’s been thanking Jisung far more frequently in these past two days than ever before, Jisung doesn’t mention it, simply filing it away to give more thought to later at night. 

With their stomachs full of fried chicken and pizza, Jaemin and Jisung lay back on the couch, eyes barely open as the movie they’re watching fades into the background.    
“Sung?” Jisung hears Jaemin sleepily say.

“Mm.”

They’re both exhausted. Packing and moving took a lot out of them, and Jisung knows he’s going to be beyond sore tomorrow morning. He doesn’t think he’s done as much physical exercise since high school. 

“You’re the best,” Jaemin mumbles, pulling Jisung closer. 

They’re already close as is; Jaemin’s legs are thrown over Jisung’s lap, and Jisung’s head is resting on Jaemin’s shoulder, the blanket tucked in tightly around them. Jisung’s eyes fly wide open as he registers Jaemin’s words. The statement isn’t out of the ordinary for Jaemin, but Jisung isn’t used to Jaemin saying things like this so often. It’s strange. If Jisung didn’t know better, he’d think that Jaemin was being more affectionate than usual these past few days. 

When Jisung lifts his head to look at Jaemin, he’s met with soft snores. Jisung sighs. He’s wide awake now, with no hopes of sleeping. 

He contemplates shaking Jaemin awake, asking him what the hell he means, if he’s only being clingy because he’s emotionally distressed, if he really cares about Jisung the way he wants. Instead, he lets his eyes rake over Jaemin’s face, taking in his slightly flushed cheeks, messy hair, and rosy lips. He wishes, wishes for a universe in which Jaemin would return his feelings, then closes his eyes tight. No point in praying for things that will never happen, he tells himself. 

—

“What time is Chenle supposed to be back anyway?” Jaemin asks, taking a seat at the dining table, pulling off his cleaning gloves.

Jisung finishes putting the clean dishes away before turning back to Jaemin, “He should be back soon,” he glances at the clock, “His flight landed at 2 and he texted me a while ago that he got his bags and is on his way home. So 15 minutes, I’d say?”

Jaemin nods, eyes roaming the apartment, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your apartment this clean before.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, “Not true. Chenle cleans well. But thanks for helping out.”

“Anytime, Sung,” Jaemin yawns before heading to the fridge, “Do you want a popsicle?”   
Jisung doesn’t understand why Jaemin is so into eating popsicles in the middle of January. He points out as much, only getting a boisterous laugh in return.

“Popsicles are good any time of the year,” Jaemin tosses Jisung an orange one, and he smiles at Jaemin’s infectious joy. 

Jisung is tired, he could use a nap and a cup of coffee, but Jaemin’s presence is healing to him. Even cleaning the apartment didn’t feel as bad with Jaemin. He really wants to take a nap, and cuddling is an added bonus that makes Jisung want it even more. 

He’s just getting settled on the couch, unfolding the blanket and patting the space next to him for Jaemin to join when he hears the key twist in the door. 

He’s up and in front of the door before Jaemin can even ask about it. Though Jisung is fine on his own, Chenle is his best friend, and there’s no denying that he misses him when he’s away. 

Jaemin comes up next to Jisung, Jisung’s excitement mirrored on Jaemin’s face. 

When Chenle steps in, he first notices Jaemin, his eyes widening at the way Jaemin is half-dressed and still has bed hair. He shoots Jisung a suggestive glance that Jisung waves off. 

“I’m home!” Chenle yells sarcastically, eyes flicking between Jaemin and Jisung. “Good to see that you two have been busy while I was gone.”   
Jaemin laughs, closing the distance between them and ruffling Chenle’s hair happily, “We missed you.”   
Jisung joins their huddle, wrapping an arm around Chenle, poking his cheek as Chenle rolls his eyes, “How was your trip? Did you bring the snacks I asked for?”

Chenle practically sinks into their embrace, clearly exhausted from the travel. He’s still smiling brightly, no sign of fatigue anywhere on his face, “Yeah, I did. I think there are more snacks in my suitcase than clothes.”

“Now that’s a lie for sure,” Jaemin eyes Chenle’s giant suitcase. 

Jisung takes a moment to just savor the feeling of his best friends, their arms wound tightly around his middle, the familiar warmth they give him. Jaemin pulls them over to the couch, where they all take a seat except for Jaemin. 

“Let me get you some water,” Jaemin says, but Jisung hops up and follows him over to the kitchen. 

Jisung can’t help but shake his head. It’s not even his house but Jaemin still insists on taking care of everyone around him. Jaemin gives him a small smile when he sees Jisung, though it feels a bit off.

Jisung silently helps Jaemin get three glasses of water, putting them on a tray and taking them back to the living room. They’re met with a quietly snoring Chenle, head tipped back against the wall, hands splayed over his stomach. 

Jaemin shakes his head with a smile as he takes a seat next to Chenle, setting the glasses of water down on the coffee table. Jisung takes a seat on the recliner next to them, tossing Jaemin the other blanket hanging over the edge of the recliner. Jaemin unfolds the blanket and drapes it over Chenle gently, snuggling in next to him after sending Jisung a sweet smile. 

Jisung’s exhausted as well, and watching Jaemin and Chenle dozing off makes Jisung want to nap as well. So he closes his eyes, sending one last glance to Jaemin. His heart expands at the sight of Jaemin’s head nestled in next to Chenle’s. He’s always happy with his best friends. 

They spend the afternoon lazing around. After waking up from their nap, Chenle takes a shower and unpacks his suitcase. Jaemin is visibly detached, though Jisung can’t figure out why. Jaemin pointedly keeps his distance from Jisung, opting to sit next to Chenle or as far away from Jisung as possible. Jisung has no idea why, but he can feel the awkwardness between them. 

Jisung chooses to help Chenle make dinner while Jaemin showers. They work in comfortable silence, Jisung occasionally asking Chenle if there’s a specific way he wants the vegetables cut. They work well together, quickly and efficiently. If Chenle notices that Jisung is strangely quiet, he doesn’t comment on it. 

When Jaemin enters the kitchen, quickly ushering Chenle out and taking over, Jisung does his best to stay out of his way, wondering why everything is so suddenly strange. There’s an awkwardness that he’s never felt before with Jaemin tangible in the air and he doesn’t know how to counter it. While yesterday, Jisung and Jaemin were enjoying each other’s company and a domestic atmosphere covered the apartment, today there’s an uncomfortable vibe. It’s like they’ve forgotten how to interact with each other, and Jisung isn’t quite sure why. 

Okay, he takes that back. He’s quite sure it’s because Jisung and Jaemin had broken down all existing barriers between them when it was just the two of them in the apartment. They had created a very domestic, comfortable bubble for themselves, and if he was being honest, Jisung had slipped into a fantasy where he and Jaemin were together and were adjusting to living together. Clearly, that fantasy had been broken since they weren’t alone anymore and now neither of them is sure of how to act around one another.

While they wait for dinner to cook, Chenle decides to put a movie on. It’s supposed to be a comedy, but the tension is too thick for anyone to pay attention to the movie. Jisung is staring at his hands, thinking through what he could possibly do to save the evening. He doesn’t want anything to change; he’d rather shove his feelings down deep and never think of them again than lose Jaemin as a friend. Jaemin is pointedly staring at the wall, leaving Chenle in the middle, awkwardly looking back and forth from the TV to Jaemin to Jisung. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Chenle stands abruptly, “I’m clearly missing something here, so I’m gonna let you figure things out together. I’m gonna give Jeno and Mark their snacks. I should be back in a few hours. Please talk about whatever you need to talk about.”

With that, he grabs a bag of snacks out of his room and stalks out of the apartment hurriedly, not even bothering to send another glance at Jisung. 

Jisung scoffs, rolling his eyes at the door. Chenle’s always been the overdramatic one between the two of them. Next to him, Jaemin raises his gaze to Jisung’s face, a flurry of emotions making their way through his eyes. The one that stands out most, though, is clear conflict, then grudging acceptance. 

Jisung furrows his eyebrows. Whatever Jaemin says next, Jisung is sure he won’t like it. 

Jaemin rubs the back of his neck, clearly thinking through what he wants to say. Finally, he sighs, his eyes meeting Jisung’s. 

“I think I should leave. I can stay with Donghyuck or Jeno, I’m sure they’ll let me crash at theirs for a bit,” Jaemin says quietly, his hands clasped tightly to the point where his knuckles go white. 

Jisung doesn’t understand. “Why? Is it because Chenle’s back? We have plenty of room, you know. It’s fine if you stay.”

Jaemin shakes his head, his eyes boring into the wall behind Jisung’s head. His leg is bouncing up and down, so Jisung lays a hand on top of his knee, hoping to calm him down. Instead, Jaemin pulls away, scooting further away from Jisung to the far edge of the couch. 

“I can’t, Jisung. I don’t want to overstay my welcome, and I should start looking for a new apartment anyway. I don’t want to mess up you and Chenle’s routine,” Jaemin’s voice is quiet but firm, and he still won’t meet Jisung’s gaze. 

“You’re not overstaying your welcome. At all. If anything, you’ve kept me company when I’d usually be doing nothing but sulking. This past weekend has been one of the most fun weekends I’ve had. Because I got to spend it with you,” Jisung’s voice is earnest, more pleading than he would’ve normally let himself be, but he needs Jaemin to understand. 

“I- I don’t think so, Sung. You don’t understand. I don’t want to overstep.”

“You’re not overstepping if I want you here. You can’t possibly leave now, anyway. You’re injured,” Jisung nods at Jaemin’s bandaged hand. 

Jaemin scoffs, shaking his head, “My hand’s fine now. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“You know what, Jaem? That’s really fucking annoying. The way you’re so hellbent on taking care of everyone else—cooking me dinner, making sure Chenle gets enough sleep, spotting us money when we need it—but you won’t let anyone take care of you when you need it,” Jisung sits up straight, looking Jaemin in the eye until the older meets his gaze. There’s his bluntness that only makes an appearance when it concerns Jaemin. 

Jaemin’s eyes hold fire in them, a fire that Jisung has next to never seen directed at him. It’s an all-consuming fire, one that lets Jisung know that Jaemin is past the point of reason. 

“Why exactly do you feel the need to take care of me? Because if you think I’m incapable of fending for myself, you’re completely wrong,” Jaemin forces the words out, his voice rising in volume with each word.

Jisung laughs. He can’t help it. Jaemin’s got such a wrong idea, Jisung doesn’t even know how to start to correct it. He laughs because he knows he’s going to have to confess to Jaemin to make him understand and because what he’s going to say next has the potential to fuck up their friendship forever, and Jisung isn’t sure what to make of that. 

“You’re such an asshole, Jaemin,” Jisung says through his laughter. Jaemin’s eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth to speak, but Jisung cuts him off. If he doesn’t get this out, he doesn’t think he’ll ever have the courage to say it. “I want to take care of you because I like you and want you to be happy and comfortable and safe. I want to take care of you because I care about you and want to make sure you’re okay. I want to take care of you because you always take care of me and I want you to know that I appreciate you. Does that make sense, Jaem? I don’t pity you. I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself. You’re more capable than me. But sometimes you should let yourself be taken care of.”

Jisung exhales deeply, and it’s his turn to not meet Jaemin’s gaze. He needs a few seconds to set himself up for rejection, for the polite way Jaemin will inevitably turn him down. 

When he meets Jaemin’s eyes again, he finds adoration and a bit of disbelief shining in them. Jisung doesn’t want to give himself false hope, but he just can’t seem to squash the last bit of hope that lifts his heart up at Jaemin’s gaze. 

“You deserve to be taken care of, Jaemin,” Jisung says softly. If their friendship dies tonight, he wants Jaemin to know exactly what’s on Jisung’s mind. 

“You’re crazy, Sung,” Jaemin whispers, but a smile lifts the corners of his lips. His eyes are shining brightly. 

“Am I really?” Jisung isn’t sure where this confidence comes from, but he could really use more of it in his daily life. 

“Absolutely. Can I kiss you?” Jaemin’s eyes are pointedly fixed on Jisung’s lips, his own bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Hold on, does this mean-”

“Yes, Sung, it means I really fucking like you too. Didn’t you notice that when you saw half a photo album dedicated to you?” Jaemin breathes, hope glimmering brightly on his face. He looks up, eyes searching Jisung’s for any sign of discomfort. 

“I had hopes. And yes, please kiss me,” Jisung smiles when Jaemin practically catapults himself towards Jisung, hands coming up to cup Jisung’s face softly. 

Jisung lifts his own hands and lets one tangle in Jaemin’s hair, the other resting on his waist. When their lips meet, Jisung savors the sweetness. Jaemin’s lips are as soft as Jisung thought, and he kisses slowly. Jisung wants nothing more than to pause time, to enjoy the pressure of Jaemin’s lips against his own, to enjoy the feeling of Jaemin’s bandaged hand against his cheek. 

They kiss for what feels like mere seconds, but they pull away when the smell of burning meat reaches their noses. 

“Shit, the chicken!” Jisung yelps, jumping to his feet and rushing to the kitchen, where indeed, the chicken he’d put in the oven was turning a deep black color. 

“And I thought you’d gotten better at cooking,” Jaemin teases as he opens the windows and turns on the kitchen fan. 

“You’re the one who distracted me, you asshole,” Jisung grumbles, though the memory of Jaemin’s lips on his brings nothing but euphoria. 

Together, Jisung and Jaemin work together to save dinner, though the chicken is beyond saving. Jaemin decides on just making a stir-fry instead, and as Jisung waltzes around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and making sure Jaemin is careful with his injured hand, he feels like they’ve magically restored the domestic feeling from the past two days. 

When Jaemin asks Jisung to taste the sauteed vegetables, he accompanies the question with a soft kiss to Jisung’s cheek, one that makes Jisung stutter and nearly drop the spoon he’s holding. His cheeks burn brightly, but the smile on Jaemin’s face makes it worth it. 

Later, when Chenle returns from an uneventful dinner with Mark and Jeno, he finds Jaemin and Jisung fast asleep on the couch, Xbox controllers discarded between their intertwined hands. If Chenle smells burnt chicken and instant ramen, he says nothing about it, instead opting to cover the sleeping boys with a blanket before taking a quick photo for memories. 

—

“How much longer before you get here?” Jaemin asks on the other side of the phone. 

“I just left my apartment,” Jisung says, grabbing his keys and wallet off the kitchen counter, clearly not out of his apartment yet. 

“You haven’t left yet, have you,” Jaemin sighs, and Jisung can imagine the exact expression of slight exasperation that Jaemin likely has displayed on his face. 

“I’m leaving right now, I promise. Five minutes,” Jisung promises, shutting the door to his apartment and booking it as fast as he can. 

“Okay. If it takes you over five minutes I get one kiss for each extra minute,” Jaemin says smugly. 

Jisung rolls his eyes but doesn’t object, “Five minutes.”   
“Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting,” Jaemin teases. 

Jisung doesn’t think about how his heart skips a beat at the pet name. True to his word, he practically runs the whole way to the apartment building they’re looking at today. 

Jaemin has been looking at different apartments for almost the entire week, and there have only been a couple that even seem like viable options. Most of them are either too big for one person or too expensive for Jaemin to be able to afford on a college student’s budget. He’d asked Jisung to come along, so Jisung has been offering his opinion on all of the apartments as well. 

For some reason, every one of his opinions has been negative, and though Jisung is sure there’s a deeper meaning behind his blatant dislike for every apartment, he chooses not to think about it. Instead, he tries to imagine Jaemin in all of the apartments that they’ve seen so far. In all of the scenarios Jisung comes up with, Jaemin is always lonely. It rubs Jisung in the wrong way, though he knows Jaemin’s already been living alone for a couple of years now. He just wants Jaemin near him now that they’re dating or whatever this is. 

Jisung automatically blushes at the thought. He knows that the true reason neither Jisung nor Jaemin have liked any of the apartments they’ve looked at so far is because both of them like spending time with each other and Jisung wants Jaemin to stay with him for as long as possible. 

Jisung finally spots the apartment complex, sprinting the last couple yards before spotting Jaemin standing next to his car. Jisung ignores the amused look on Jaemin’s face as he bends over, catching his breath. 

“Eight minutes,” Jaemin notes smugly, turning off the stopwatch on his phone.

Jisung straightens, rolling his eyes at Jaemin but leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“That doesn’t count,” Jaemin pouts, tapping his lips innocently. 

“Later. Let’s go look at the apartment now,” Jisung says, taking Jaemin’s hand in his as he leads the way. 

The apartment complex they’re looking at today is large and modern, and there are an awful lot of trees towering over the building. Jisung recalls the photos they’d seen on the website; there is a pool, two gyms, and is pet-friendly. It seems like the most promising complex yet, but Jisung still irrationally hopes for something to be wrong with it as well, just so Jaemin can stay with him for longer. 

The landlord greets them with a sweet smile when they get inside. Jisung takes in the atmosphere; the air is fresh, the interior looks freshly painted, there are no water leaks as far as he can tell. 

The entire complex is perfect, Jisung comes to learn as they tour it. The gym is large enough for over a dozen people to use it at once, the pool looks well maintained, and the apartment unit itself is modern and newly-furnished. It has hardwood floors that Jisung ends up loving, despite his feelings, and the bedroom is just a bit bigger than Jaemin’s old one. Rent each month falls right in Jaemin’s budget, which he’s practically ecstatic about.

It’s almost too perfect. Jisung even tries to nitpick the apartment, but the best he can come up with is that the kitchen is too crowded. It’s really not, it’s just the right size for one person, and the fridge is big enough for Jaemin to easily fit in as many popsicles as he wants. 

When he turns to Jaemin, waiting for his no-doubt positive reaction to the apartment, he doesn’t expect the sullen look he finds on his face. 

“What? Is there something wrong with the apartment?” Jisung asks, leaning back against the kitchen wall. 

Jaemin sighs, shaking his head. He pointedly avoids Jisung’s eye, “No. The apartment is pretty much perfect. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Why not? I think the vibes here are pretty good,” Jisung muses. He also feels like it doesn’t feel right, but then again, the only place where he wants Jaemin to be is in his own apartment with him.

“I’ll let you think about it,” the landlord smiles when she sees the doubt on Jaemin’s face. 

“Thank you,” Jaemin says politely, waiting for her to leave the apartment before turning back to Jisung, “This is the best apartment we’ve seen so far, right?”

Jisung searches Jaemin’s eyes, unsure of how he should answer. Honestly, yes, this is the best apartment they’ve seen by far, but he doesn’t quite want to say yes. On the other hand, he’s really not looking forward to touring any more apartments. 

“It is,” he says carefully. 

Jaemin turns around the living room, eyes taking in the walls, the current tenant’s paintings and gorgeous art prints, the large kitchen space, and plush rug over the dark hardwood floors. It’s a beautiful apartment, and Jisung can practically see Jaemin accepting it as his new home. It fits Jaemin as well. 

When Jaemin meets Jisung’s eyes again, it’s clear he’s made a decision. His eyes hold finality. If Jisung wants to say anything—suggest anything—now is his last chance. Jisung desperately wills some of the boldness that only shows up around Jaemin to help him out, but it’s only him and his logic. If he wants to say anything to convince Jaemin otherwise, he can’t rely on the adrenaline rush he usually gets around Jaemin. 

Jaemin nods, then with a smile, “You ready to head out? I think I like this place.”

Jisung swallows hard, letting his eyes flicker around the apartment. He imagines Jaemin here, and sure, he can see it, but there’s potential for Jaemin to be happier elsewhere.    
“Move in with me and Chenle,” he blurts, finally, finally gathering the guts. 

He slowly lifts his eyes to meet Jaemin’s. Jaemin doesn’t look opposed to the idea. He doesn’t even look surprised. There’s a smile playing at his lips as he watches Jisung, but he stays quiet. 

Jisung isn’t sure if that’s a yes or no, so he decides to take the opportunity to start convincing him, “You know we have enough room. You could stay with me, or you could move into the room Chenle turned into storage. You’d help us out with rent, and we’d keep you from being lonely. I know you can take care of yourself, but this isn’t me taking care of you. You’re capable of so much and this is just me wanting your company. Also, Chenle was thinking about moving in with Mark and Jeno but he isn’t quite sure yet. But I don’t think that’ll be a problem because the apartment is big—”

“Sung, stop,” Jaemin says, and Jisung cuts himself off quickly. 

Jaemin’s face isn’t giving a single clue about what his response will be, and Jisung is nervous. He runs a hand through his hair, looking at Jaemin patiently. 

“Yeah, I’ll move in with you. That’s kinda what I wanted you to ask me all along,” Jaemin’s face burns bright red and he looks down, scuffing the floor with his shoe. 

Jisung feels like he’s either in heaven or about to get his hopes crushed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. That’s why we’ve been going to apartments that I knew wouldn’t fit me,” Jaemin rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, a shy smile spreading across his lips. “I thought you weren’t gonna ask me, so we went to my first choice apartment last.”

Jisung’s heart practically melts, “You idiot. Come on, let’s go.”

“You still owe me some kisses!” Jaemin protests, grabbing Jisung’s hand and pulling him to a stop. 

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, sharply tugging Jaemin towards him. Jaemin ends up right in front of Jisung, close enough that Jisung can see the individual strands of hair on his head. Jaemin’s breathing hard but his eyes are sparkling as he looks at Jisung.

Jisung kisses Jaemin’s cheeks, his nose, eyelids, and lastly, his lips. Jaemin is sweet, as always, but also extra enthusiastic. Jisung can feel the excitement that Jaemin is practically exuding, and it makes his heart soar. 

“Let’s go. We should go celebrate,” Jaemin says when they pull apart, smiling so wide Jisung is worried for Jaemin’s chapped lips. 

“Celebrate? What are we celebrating? You aren’t even moving to a different place,” Jisung can hardly hold back his amusement.    
“We’re celebrating the fact that I’m moving in with you! And the fact that we’re dating. We’re celebrating everything. Life is beautiful,” Jaemin says overdramatically, wildly gesturing with his hands. 

Jisung’s laughter bursts out of him and he has to bend over and rest his hands on his knees for a couple of seconds before he can calm down. He’s never seen Jaemin this . . . carefree and joyful. 

It provokes a proud feeling in his chest. He’s proud to be the cause of Jaemin’s happiness. 

“Make sure you bring your camera, Jaem. We can fill up the rest of your photo album,” Jisung grins, lacing his hand with Jaemin’s, swinging them gently as they walk out of the apartment complex.

“I think I’ve taken enough photos of you in the past couple days that I’m gonna need a new one,” Jaemin looks sheepish, to which Jisung just rolls his eyes, but there’s a soft feeling that forces his way into Jisung’s heart.

“Chenle’s gonna be confused as hell.”

“I thought you talked to him about this?” Jaemin looks just a tad worried, and Jisung can’t help but squeeze his hand in comfort. 

“I didn’t tell him I was actually gonna ask you. I just suggested it to him but he’s definitely gonna be happy about paying less rent. More money for him to spend on video games.”

“Shit, I need to buy a new Xbox controller. Mine doesn’t charge anymore,” Jaemin pouts suddenly as they come to a halt in front of Jaemin’s car. 

“You can use mine.”

Jaemin fake gags and gets in the car. Jisung takes one last look at the apartment complex and gets in, a satisfied smile plastered on his lips.

Needless to say, Chenle is certainly confused when he gets home at 2 in the morning from Jeno and Mark’s to see Jaemin and Jisung having a competition to see who can unpack boxes and organize the fastest. He takes a second to take a photo of the two sleep-deprived boys leaning against each other as they cut box after box open before jumping in and joining them. 

Jisung’s never felt warmer in his life. Jaemin’s never felt less lonely. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!! this was a very quick, cute thing i wrote on a whim after thinking about how much jaemin loves the dreamies,, especially jisung and chenle!! leave a comment if you'd like & thank you for reading<33
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/haechzens)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/honeyshyuck)


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